


Söt/Lång

by Scriptor



Series: Between the Hammer and the Anvil [2]
Category: Avatar (Sweden Band)
Genre: Frottage, I am so sorry, Lap Dances, M/M, Slight Bondage, Teasing, holy shit, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 22:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20824547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor
Summary: It wasn’t the nicest way to respond, I realize now, but I retorted, “Do you ever stop talking? Do you ever just think ‘Maybe now is a good time to think instead of speak’?”





	Söt/Lång

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOOO everyone loves this pairing apparently and though it isn't my number one Avatar ship I felt compelled. Henrik's POV. Hope you like it!
> 
> Oh, and translation is Pretty/Tall

I press my fingers to my eyes, hoping to alleviate a fraction of this headache that’s been plaguing me all afternoon. We’d all broken off into groups to work on material for the album and Johannes and I were _ trying _ to formulate a theme. We couldn’t rehash _ Avatar Country _ and he wasn’t about to bang out another concept album. We bounced ideas off each other for a while but then in typical Johannes form, he took over. And he talked and talked and rambled on and on and yeah, I appreciate the creative process but take a rest, big guy.

Johannes likes to talk; it’s why we allow him to be our mouthpiece and spokesperson in almost every interview. Sure, John shows up from time to time but can barely get a word in edgewise, which he truthfully doesn’t mind. Everyone knows the band was his brainchild anyway. But God, J can really wear on a guy after a while with his incessant chatter.

“So check this out. What if we roll right out of the Black Waltz theme and do like a dark Houdini thing? Maybe we can do something with seances or disappearing or - oh - got it!” he said, slapping the table and sketching something out on the legal pad. “What if I learn how to do a chain or rope escape kinda thing?”

He sketched out a wooden antique-looking chair with a high back and then a length of rope wrapped all around it, bound together by a huge old padlock. “What if I have really started to lose my marbles and you all capture me and lock me up on the chair? Like, I’m imprisoned with my insanity.” His grin took up his whole face, he was so damn proud of his eureka moment.

“Yes, sounds good.” I grunted, tired, bored, and irritated.

“What? Isn’t that a cool idea?”

“Sure, “ I answered, noncommittally. It wasn’t that it wasn't a good idea; Johannes always has good ideas. In fact, I think he’s actually a genius when it comes to this stuff. But I’m just the bass player and we’ve been cooped up in this fucking house for days, no, weeks now and I’m starting to lose my mind too. Maybe they ought to tie _ me _ up.

“Henrik, help me out here. This is a group project you know. I’m not going to commit to this if no one else is on-board.”

“OK fine, yeah, it’s amazing. Now, I think it’s time we get some food and beer and be done.”

As I stood, Johannes reached out and grabbed my forearm. “Aww come on, let me at least get this idea fleshed out before we call it for the day.” I looked down at where he had hold of me and wrenched out of his grip before stalking off.

In the kitchen, it was quiet. Here, I could think. Tim and Jonas were nowhere to be found and I saw John out of the corner of my eye in an adjacent room, working out a beat on some drum pads. They were muted enough that they didn’t aggravate my still pounding head. Our managers stocked the fridge with plenty of vegan food and beer so we were good to go. I’d been dreaming about that first cold sip since 1:30 and it was now 9 at night; I was practically dying for relief. No sooner had I cracked open the first cold one did Johannes seek me out and launch into another diatribe.

“Henrik, check this out. I just did some quick research on escape methods. I really think I can do this. What I learned is that it is partly my ability to get out of the ropes and partly in the way they’re tied. So you boys will need to learn that too. What I read was that he paid local sailor boys to do that - I think we should avoid that imagery in our act but that’s just me - but point is if you tie the ropes just right and just loose enough, I can squeeze out of my shoes and go from there.”

It wasn’t the nicest way to respond, I realize now, but I retorted, “Do you ever stop talking? Do you ever just think ‘Maybe now is a good time to think instead of speak’?”

Johannes was taken aback by my question, puzzled even. “Not now. Not when we have so much work to do. Sooner we get done the sooner we can go home.” he explained. And he wasn’t wrong. I too was feeling the ache in my heart. And the drudgery of making this next album.

But he acquiesced. “OK, you’re right. Let’s call it for the night. Hand me one of those.” he said, pointing to my Sjukommatvaaan. I was two in and at 7.2%, feeling mighty fine. Johannes took my offering and sat back, crossing one long leg over another. After maybe 30 seconds of what I considered comfortable silence, he just had to break it. “Do you like my idea? Do you think it can work? I did a bit of research on Houdini and think we ought to utilize his methods. After all, he’s the pioneer of escape tricks.”

“Yeah, seems cool. We’ll have to see what the guys think of course.”

“True…” Johannes said and for once, he was quiet.

“Well,” I announced. “I’m headed to my room. We can pick up again tomorrow.” He looked injured as I said that, but did not object.

Bone tired, I laid in my bed and tried to relax but sleep would not come. I vaguely thought I heard Jonas and Tim talking somewhere else in the house and some random footsteps here and there as I drifted in and out of a light sleep but I couldn’t quite get to that magical place of rest. After two, three hours of fidgeting, trying to get comfortable I tossed off the blankets and headed back to the kitchen for a snack. The farmhouse floors creaked beneath my feet as I approached the fridge, bastion of comfort in lieu of sleeping. I grabbed a banana and a couple small apples from the basket on the counter - and a Sjukommatvaaan for good measure - then headed back to my room. A slice of light cut across the dark floor, its origin being Johannes’s room where the door was slightly askew. Curious, I peeked inside to find him standing over a desk chair with two pillows propped up and attempting to weave a long, thin length of rope around them. He tapped his foot impatiently as he failed to create anything that satisfied him. An involuntary throat-clearing on my part brought his attention to the partially opened door and we locked gazes; he seemed surprised to see me at this late hour.

“I’m practicing but as you can see, not getting far”

“No, you’re really failing quite spectacularly.” I took a step inside and placed my fruit and beer on the dresser. 

“I thought maybe I could get a head start on understanding the dynamics of this trick, before tomorrow when I ask for everyone’s help. Pillows aren’t really a good stand-in so it’s been pretty pathetic. Houdini did this thing when he was being tied where he’d puff out his chest - oh, and he also said to always wear a suit- so you have this extra space created between you and the rope. This made it easier for him to wriggle out.” Johannes was babbling again and though it is irritating to the nth degree it is also charming and I was struck with an excellent idea of my own. I took a step further into the room, pegging him with a cautionary glare that he completely ignored as he rattled on.

“He was a strong guy and that was part of it too. Good thing I’ve been working out lately. I may need that extra strength to pull this one off.” I stepped towards him again and swiped the pillows off the chair. He stared at them then at me for a second, but still continued. “He also used a very specific length of rope - 60 feet, which this is probably only 40 - and the secret was very few knots throughout the wrapping process.” Johannes never saw it coming, he was so up in his head with his ideas, so his expression of utter confusion was no surprise to me. Especially when I placed my hand on his chest and shoved him back into the chair. “What are you doing, Henrik?”

“Shhh, that’ll be enough from you.” I warned.

“Oh come off it, now. What’s the deal?”

I swiped the apple from the dresser and tossed it playfully in the air a few times as I sauntered back to him. I leaned down and looked right at him, dangerously close to his face. “Be a good boy and open up.” He balked at my command and shook his head. “Ah ah, trust me, ok?” I didn’t think he’d actually do it but he tentatively opened his mouth and I carefully placed the apple there, making sure it was as comfortable as it could be, considering. “Good boy.” I praised. Something flashed across his face at my compliment and I took note. More praise.

“Now, you’ve done quite enough talking for one day. It is time for action.” I said, taking the end of the rope in hand and affixing it to one leg of the wooden chair. I too had done research - not on Houdini but on rope play - and this would be a lesson he would not soon forget.

Johannes mumbled around the fruit in his mouth, a bit of saliva, trailing down near the corner, but he did not seem distressed. More like, curious and intrigued. After making sure the knot at the base of the chair would hold, I took to wrapping it carefully around his legs, between them, then up over his knees and on towards his thighs. Over the sinewy muscles and back under the solid wood of the chair. Up around his waist, where I took note of a slight bulge in his pants, but I avoided that area entirely. Waist, then torso, in between the back slats of the chair and a few loops around each arm. He watched the ropes and my hands as I made each move and for once, seemed to slow himself, his breathing. My next move was to unbutton his shirt down to his navel, pulling each side apart to reveal pale white skin, smooth and taut. I criss-cross the rope over Johannes’s chest, over that stupid Hawaiian shirt. I really do appreciate a sense of humor and the photo shoot with those campy shirts was fun but J took it a bit far by continuing to wear them. I test the tightness of the ropes against his bare flesh and he gasps a little at the way they abrade him as I pull tighter, then affix the last bit of rope to the top of the chair.

“Now, I’m going to take this apple out. Do you think you can _ shut up _ for a second?”

Johannes nods and I straddle his lap as seductively as possible, then reach up and take the fruit. He sighs and flexes his jaw open and closed a few times. I wipe a bit of his spit from his face and lean in. “Why don’t we find something better for that mouth of yours to do, hmm?” Capturing his lips in a brutal kiss, he leaned into it like a starved man finally being fed. He was hungry for the contact, that much was evident in the way he mewled as I pulled back and licked at his lips but withheld the full kiss. In fact, I stood and looked down over his now bound body on the chair. Nudging the door shut with my foot, I turned off the large lamp and left one on in the corner.

“Henrik, please…” he begged, so sweetly.

“Please what? You may use your words now.”

“More. I want...more.”

“And you shall receive. But do you promise to stay quiet from here on out?”

Johannes just nodded and I was satisfied with his compliance. He deserved a treat. I came back to his lap and ground my crotch against his; I knew he needed the contact, the friction. The clear and obvious bulge tenting his pants told me as much. I did my best stripper impression, shifting my hips towards and away from him, using the back of the chair for leverage. I sifted my hands through his hair, caressed his face, gently touched his lips. I ran one finger over his mouth and as he opened, gently eased it in. Johannes sucked greedily and I had to admit, that was one of the hottest things I’d ever witnessed. He whimpered each time I added pressure to his cock and I never broke eye contact either.I hadn’t realized just how blue his eyes really were. It was intense the way we moved, his head tilting slightly each time I got closer, my hips moving on his though he couldn’t do much more than watch. And I was getting off on the control. I had him right where I wanted him and knowing he couldn’t move or touch me was electrifying. Though still clothed I ground my cock on his and he exhaled, “Fuck.” he exclaimed. I immediately got up and stepped back, then laid a smack across his face. Not a hard one but a punishment nonetheless. “No words, got me?” He hung his head, disappointed.

Resuming my assault, I scratched my fingernails down his chest in the spaces between the ropes, catching a nipple here and there. His breath came in ragged pants as he watched the contact but he did not speak. As I got lower still, towards his lap, he moaned a little but caught himself, looking to me to see if he would be in trouble.

“Shh.” I warned, adjusting the rope a bit as to lower his waistband and set free his aching cock, which was certainly proportionate to his height: long, curved a bit, and leaking. I felt pride in knowing I’d done that to him. Sliding off his legs to the floor, I adjusted my position so as to take him delicately in my mouth, again not breaking eye-contact. He stifled a moan and threw his head back in delicious agony. I couldn’t get his entire length in my mouth but I did my best to take him. His taste was heady on my tongue, a smell and taste I knew I’d not soon get enough of. But I wasn’t about to let him get off too quickly. I gifted him with a few more good pulls before standing again. 

Adjusting myself in my pants, I assessed his situation, walked around the chair, pulling at the binds around his arms, his legs. “Hmm, I do think you might be able to escape. Not _ these _ ropes but if we do it right on stage. No, these will keep you right where I want you tonight.” I stalked back around to his front and adjusted the ropes to cross over each nipple as to give more stimulation and he gasped when I pulled them against the sensitive flesh.

“Do you like this, Johannes? Like when you have no control?”

He nodded, knowing I’d punish him for speaking. I rewarded him for his composure by straddling him again and grinding hard; I needed this as much as he did now. Seeing him needy and debauched was making me incredibly turned on too. “Do you like when I do this to you? Keep you contained?” He moaned again and shook his head, sneaking a glance down at his own lap where his cock kicked, eager for attention. I reached down between us and took his sizable length in my hands, working the velvety skin over the rigidity. He trembled a little, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I like to see you this way.” I crooned. “So needy, so desperate. And _ quiet.’" _

Johannes clucked as if he wanted to argue but I pegged him with a stare and shook my head no. He knew better. And he was a good boy who deserved good things. Once more I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth, lapping at his leaking slit. I put pressure at the base of his cock as I sucked eagerly until his legs quaked and he began to pull at the binds on his arms.

“What’s that?” I asked around the girth in my mouth. “Are you close?”

Johannes nodded violently in response. I stood and removed my clothes, ever so slowly. His heavy-lidded eyes watched patiently but I knew him well enough to realize he was on fire, burning, needing more. And I was going to make him wait just a little longer. I sauntered closer and worked his cock just a little, then resumed my lap dance. Skin to skin now, I knew I myself wouldn’t last long. The combination of the desperate look on his face, the way he pulled at the rope knowing he wasn’t going to escape, and the little moans he let escape had me dying for my own release. I took us both in my hands and pumped together. We both looked at where we connected and it was the hottest sight: his pale cock against mine, pre-cum dripping down my fingers and smearing everywhere. His ragged breaths told me his release was not far off.

“Cum for me, Johannes. I want to hear you.” His head snapped up and looked at me for approval - for allowance to speak, to make noise. I nodded yes and resumed my work and before I knew it, Johannes let out a satisfied shout as he came, spurting hot cum over us both and that was what it took to tip me over the edge. I shuddered as the orgasm wracked through me, then slowed my movement until I stilled and leaned forward, resting my head on Johannes's chest. He craned his head down to rest on mine and we sat like that for a few seconds, just breathing in the silence.


End file.
